


Untitled

by EleganceFlawed



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Blood and Gore, Guro, Necrophilia, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleganceFlawed/pseuds/EleganceFlawed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WARNINGS FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF NECROPHILIA, BLOOD AND GORE.</p>
<p>Tig goes to identify the body of his old lady, after he lays down the bike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Tig looks down at the mangled body of his old lady. The room is cold, and he is alone.

He had come down to the morgue to identify her, what was left of her, anyway. He'd asked for a moment. He wasn't sure why.

As he runs his eyes across the mottled flesh of her naked corpse, patches raw from scraping across a highway at 40 miles an hour, pieces missing from where the traffic had hit her...

He gets hard.

He runs his fingertips across the cold metal slab supporting her broken form. He brushes her hair away from the whole side of her face. He caresses the wet crevase that had been the other side, palm catching on a shard of skull.

He holds his bloodied hand up in front of his face, studying the deep crimson color. Then he runs the side of his hand across his tongue, moaning softly at the metallic taste. He puts his hand to her sunken face again, pressing his thumb into the muscles that had once been her cheek.

"I love you, baby."

He kisses her, hard, her jaw falling out of place and his tongue finding open air. He chews a moment on her jawbone, a love-nip or two down the shredded side of her neck, running his tongue down her exposed spinal column, toying with her vocal chords with the tip of it. He laughs softly into her collarbone.

"I guess you won't talk back to me now, will ya...."

He goes to take her left breast in his hand, only to realize it was probably still on the side of the road. He cups the right one instead, going wide-eyed a moment when her nipple does not respond. He moves to her breastbone, pressing his fingertips down until he finds her gaping chest cavity. He traces his left hand along the exposed and broken ribs, reaching his right hand tentatively up towards her lungs. The sheer amount of fluid and the wet sounds reverberating from her sends a shiver through his entire body.

His hand reaches her heart, still whole.

He rests there for a moment, hand on her heart, marveling at the stillness.

"Do you love me?" He looks at her dead eye, banging his left hand on the drawer when he gets no response.

"Did you ever?" He raises his voice, then drops to a whisper. "Stupid gash." He pulls his hand out and stands.

The pressure in his jeans getting unbearable, he casts a quick look around and then unzips, a smirk creeping across the right side of his face. Staring at her half-open lips, he reaches his blood-soaked right hand into his boxers and strokes, smirk growing into a full-on grin, a chuckle escaping his chest. Properly lubricated, he climbs halfway up onto the slab, kneeling, and goes to grab her hips.

The flesh slides easily off of the bones, his fingers slipping, he grabs harder and tries to pull her towards him.

Her spine slides partially out of her upper torso with a slick pop, and he almost comes.

Gasping, he thrusts his hips towards her, rubbing the head of his dick on her cold pussy.

"Oh, God, baby...my girl....it's so...." the rest dissolves into mumbling as he rests the heat of his body on the cold stillness of hers. He buries his face in her matted hair, nuzzling her too-soft cheek, reaching his right hand down to adjust himself before forcing his way into her tight, dead space. Moaning, he pushes harder, rocking back and forth, biting her shoulder. A chunk of flesh detatches in his mouth, and he moans deeper, sucking on it as he pounds her still body. His hands press down on her hips, palms slipping with the rhythm of his thrusts, everything inside of her shifting upwards. Her organs begin to work their way out of her abdomen, towards the open space between her hips and chest. He wraps his hands around her vertebrae, arching backwards with shorter, faster thrusts. The remains of her head bounce up and down, almost as though she were still alive.

"You like that baby? Yeah....I know you do. You're a naughty girl. You like it hard. You love how big I am, baby, you love how I tear you up."

He presses his right hand down on her abdomen, feeling himself inside of her. He moans again, leaning over to kiss her chest, biting at the exposed ribs, hunk of her shoulder clenched in the back of his mouth. He shifts it under his tongue and shoves his face towards her lungs, nuzzling and licking between them as if he were eating her out. He uses his left hand to put her arm around his shoulders as best as he can, rigor starting to set. He grabs her left thigh with his right hand, shifting both of them towards the end of the drawer, planting his boots on the floor and practically lifting her onto his hips. Her head lolls back, something cracks in her neck, and he shudders.

"Uncooperative bitch. You haven't changed at all." He wipes some of her gore away from his mouth with his right hand, left arm wrapping around her shoulder, hand grasping her scapula firmly, fingertips pushing loose flesh away. He clenches her spine in his right fist and rattles her bones with the strength and tenacity of his thrusts, stifling his moans in the cusp of her shoulder, biting down hard on the flesh still in his mouth.

Her upper body starts to separate again, making a slow, slick, snapping sound. He comes hard, dick slamming into her tailbone, come leaking upwards around her ruined organs, forming a puddle on the table. He drops her, suddenly, panting and staring at the mess he'd made.

He backs up quickly, unblinking, stuffing his junk back in his jeans and adjusting his clothing as if nothing has happened. He coughs a little, shifting her flesh in his mouth with his tongue as the morgue technician returns. Tig just gives him an upwards nod.

"Hey. What's up, man?"

The tech takes in the scene, eyes widening and mouth falling slightly open, a squeak coming from his throat as he sees those bright blue eyes staring, unwavering, through a mask of dead blood. Tig just continues staring, chewing thoughtfully, as if he had a piece of gum. He puts his blood-soaked right hand on his hip, by his knife, and gestures with his left, spattering a little gore across the room.

"You gonna burn the bitch, right?" The tech takes a moment to process the words, then nods nervously.

"Great!" Tig takes his less-bloodied left hand and pats the tech hard on the shoulder, leaving a smear. "Then nobody needs to hear about this, right, buddy?" He grins wide, staring intensely into the tech's shellshocked face. He gets another series of short, terrified nods. Tig turns to leave.

"Thanks again, man..." he gives the tech another pat across the back. "Oh! Shit, you might need this." He takes the tech by the arm, turning him slowly. He grasps the man's hand firmly in his, spitting the chunk of shoulder into his open palm.

With a wink, and a wave, Tig is gone, and the tech stares around the room in disbelief, before glancing at the flesh in his hand, and running to vomit in the nearby sink.


End file.
